Legends to Burn
by Eleri Undomiel
Summary: Claire is graduating from High School, and then she can be with Quil. Then, a rogue vampire changes her plans. Can a vampire and a werewolf love each other just as much as the imprint? Takes place before Breaking Dawn. More info inside.
1. Chapter One

**This story takes place fifteen years after Bella was changed. It's about how Quil and Claire's relationship growing, but then, Claire gets bitten by a rogue vampire. Will the imprinting prove strong enough to bond mortal enemies? Or will they end up destroying each other, mind, body, and soul? Stay tuned to find out!

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**The day Quil told me what he was is one of the most vivid of my memories.

It was the day before I started high school. He'd taken me on a walk, like we were doing now, and talked to me before settling us on a half-rotten log. He pulled me onto his oversized lap and asked,

"What would you think if I told you the Quileute legends were real?"

I'd shrugged, because I'd always had a feeling there was more to them than met the eye.

"What if I said that I was one?"

Still naïve, I'd hugged him tightly and said, "It wouldn't matter to me, Quil. I don't care what you are. You're too nice to be a monster; you're a protector, a defender of the young and helpless."

He smiled at me, then told me he was a werewolf, and that he was my protector. He said he'd always be there for me when I needed him, and wanted him. He'd be there even when I didn't want him.

Then, he'd told me of imprinting. He explained it in great detail, and then said he'd imprinted on me. He would gladly take and become whatever I wanted him to be.

Until my junior year of high school, he was my big brother and best friend. That's when I realized I'd fallen in love with Quil.

Now, graduation was a week away, and we were walking casually through the woods in the back of the reservation, heading back to my aunt Emily's house. As usual, Quil made no sound beside me, and I could tell he was shortening his strides so I could keep up.

We broke through the thick trees in back of her home. Soft rain dripped on my face and neck. I welcomed the feeling, my hands shoved deep in my pockets.

The back door opened just as we reached the stoop, and Sam stepped out, closing the door. His face was grave; a jolt of alarm raced through me as my breath caught.

Emily had gone into labor with her and Sam's second child earlier that day – that was why me and Quil had gone on a walk – and the sight of his face told me something was wrong.

"Sam… wh-what happened to Emily?" I couldn't manage more than a whisper. "Tell me!"

My uncle cleared his throat twice before speaking in an agonized rasp. "Still born," Then my great hulk of an uncle bowed his head, jaw working, fighting his grief for me . . . and perhaps for himself, too. I touched his arm, and his head jerked up to look me in the eyes. He smiled sadly, then returned to the house.

I watched him, unsettled. My eyes overflowed with tears as a lightning bolt of grief ripped through me. Not another one.

See, Sam and Emily had conceived a total of six children. Four out of the six, including this last one, had been either been miscarried or they were born dead. Out of the two that survived pregnancy and childbirth, one of them, a little girl named Megan, drowned at the age of five, six years ago. Her older brother Scott, now thirteen, was Sam and Emily's only remaining child.

Scott now walked out of the shadows beside the house, hands deep in his jean pockets, head bent and shoulders hunched against the now-pelting rain.

I reached out to him, and he came to me, shoving his face against my shoulder. He was shaking as hard as I was as we clung to each other for support.

Quil's big hands dropped on each of our shoulders, comforting without words.

After a few silent minutes, Scott pulled back, and I let him go. He offered a watery smile before he turned and walked back into the woods. Then, I turned to Quil, looking up at his face in disbelief.

"Why, Quil?" I choked out before he crushed me against him. I could feel his almost overpowering ache to take my pain away and to shelter me from all of life's trials. I sobbed my heart out into his chest, clutching at his shirt so tightly I left creases.

When finally I'd cried myself out, I pulled a Kleenex out of my jacket pocket and blew my nose. I sniffed, "I've ruined your shirt."

He shook his head, brushing my hair back from my face with a hand so gentle it could've been the hand of a child. "It's not the first time, Claire, and it won't be the final time, either."

Now he tapped my chin with a large finger. "Smile, please. It's heartbreaking to see you so miserable."

I offered my best, watery, just-cried-every-tear-I-had smile. He laughed quietly. "Wish I had a camera. That was priceless."

My back stiffened, and I felt defensive. "How so? Is it wrong to be sad?"

He looked confused, then, comprehension spread across his features as he moved his hands to my shoulders.

"No, no, Claire, that's not it at all!" he smoothed my hair, traced my lips. I remained stoic, even though I was melting at his careful, loving touch.

"I just meant that you seemed to be trying so hard to smile, and the result was funny. I'm touched you put forth such effort to satisfy me." Quil's thumb traced my cheekbone as he cupped my face. "Are you still mad?"

I sighed and shook my head. "No, it's hard to stay mad when you're the most understanding guy in the world. That, and when I'm being silly."

His wide grin lit up his whole face. "Really?" Quil ran a hand through his hair, messing it up further. I fought the urge to fix it.

"Careful, your head will swell, and you'll never be able to get through my front door again!"

He nodded, smiling. "And that would be bad,"

I sighed, my mind returning to other, not so pleasant topics. Quil took my hand.

"It'll all be okay eventually, Claire. I'll help all I can, promise." Quil's voice had such intensity to its tone that my eyes filled again.

I swallowed. "I know. But they've been through so much already, Quil." I shivered as a wind came up, blowing right through my wet clothes.

"C'mon, let's get you inside. You need to dry off before you get sick." He led me by the hand into my aunt's house. I sat at the table in the dining nook, water pooling beneath my chair on the linoleum. I could see Scott sacked out on the couch in the living room, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling with a blank expression.

I freed my feet from my soaked sneakers, then pulled off my socks and stuck them inside, under the tongue, hidden from view. I pulled my jacket off and threw it to the hook beside the back door. It missed, hitting the floor with a wet smack. I grumbled, hauling myself out of the chair to restore it to the hook.

Shivering still, I trudged to my room.

Oh. I guess I forgot to mention I live with my aunt and uncle. Oh well, you know now.

I shut my door and stepped out of my wet clothes. Grabbing the towel off my closet's doorknob, I dried off as best I could before slipping into a tee shirt and sweatpants.

I padded quietly past my aunt's bedroom door; I could hear crying from inside as I continued to the kitchen.

I grabbed a towel from the laundry nook and knelt, mopping up the puddles on the floor. I looked up as I finished, finding myself staring into Quil's face.

"Oh!" I was so startled I fell back on my butt.

Another grin spread across his face. He reached down and scooped me up effortlessly, then placed me in a chair.

"Are you okay? I'd examine you, but me staring at your butt might be a bit awkward." Mischief twinkled in his eyes.

I arched an eyebrow. "Yet you still want to."

He blushed handsomely. "Eh . . ." Quil scratched his face, looking sheepish. "Most guys' do have physical temptations . . . they're mainly the same in that way."

Sam came in at that moment. "I would beg to differ, Quil. We all have differing personalities, physical attributes – although with us, they're not so different – face shape, eye color. Oh yes, we're very different."

Quil looked slightly embarrassed. "Actually, I was talking about sexual appeal for a guy. It's all the same."

"Ah. Yes, well, that would be one characteristic where we _are_ very similar. But not always the same."

"I think the only difference is that some have more morals than others," I commented.

Both Sam and Quil's eyes snapped to me, and I blushed. "What? It's true!"

Finally, Sam smiled softly. "Perhaps," He nodded to the both of us. "Excuse me, I'm going to go check on Emily."

After he left the room, I walked to the fridge and began pulling out what I needed to make dinner. Ham, eggs, cheese . . .

Several minutes later, Quil's quiet voice in my ear startled me, making me drop the spatula.

"What are we having for dinner?"

I plucked the utensil from the floor and smacked him across the shoulder with it. "_I _am making ham and cheese omelets for everyone who happens to stop by, except _you_."

He looked hurt. "What did I do?"

"You startled me." I stated. Inwardly, I cringed. I sounded like a two year old.

Quil's strong, wide arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me to him. He kissed my neck, erupting chill bumps. "What if I said I was very, very sorry?" he whispered. I thought I could hear a seductive tone, but couldn't be sure. He was very distracting.

"I would still make you eat leftovers, if we had any." My retort was weak, however, and breathless.

His nose gently trailed up my neck to my ear, where he breathed, "No, you wouldn't." He gently touched his lips to my temple.

I folded. "Alright," Then, I turned to kiss him. "Now let me get back to the omelets, they're burning!"

He released me. "Wouldn't want that."

I laughed with him as I flipped eggs over. Right as I was putting the platter of omelets (I honestly have no clue how many I made . . . I just mixed up as many eggs as there was in the fridge), I set to work on waffles.

On cue, the front door opened.

"I _thought _I smelled food!"

"Wow, I can't believe Emily's up and cookin' already."

"Man, I am _so hungry_!"

I stepped out of the kitchen into the living room and stood in the doorway with my arms crossed.

Jacob, Embry, and Seth stood on the rug, dripping. They stopped talking when they saw me.

"First off, be _quiet_. Emily is still in bed. I don't want to bother her any more than necessary." I raised an eyebrow, moving a hand to my hip. "Second, if you want food, you will have to eat _silently_, or not at all. And third, wash up. It's getting cold."

With that said, I stalked into the kitchen and continued mixing batter. I jumped, startled, when I saw Scott on the counter. I acted like he hadn't spooked me, and tried to be gentle with him.

"Hey, Scott." I said quietly. "Want some dinner?"

"No." He offered me a crooked smile and hopped off the counter. "I'm goin' outside for awhile, okay?"

"Okay, just don't go too far." I reached out and ruffled his hair, unable to return his smile.

My eyes followed him as he left the house, concern filling me. I started the waffles, sprinkling blueberries in some, chocolate shavings or strawberry chunks in others.

I carried out the platter of waffles and took the now empty omelet plate back to the kitchen. I picked up a fork and began to eat the food I'd set aside for myself. After a few bites, I gave up. It all tasted like sawdust to me.

I heard a quiet, but eager, voice pipe up behind me. "You gonna finish that?"

Turning to find Jacob, I held out my plate. He took it, strutting proudly back into the dining nook, to cries of discontent.

"No fair! Why do you get more?"

"Aw, man! I was gonna ask!"

"Give me some!"

I rolled my eyes and turned to do the dishes. Standing at the sink, up to my elbows in hot water and suds, I stared out the window while I scrubbed at a plate. The woods behind the house seemed so peaceful.

As I put the last dish away, my eyes turned again with longing to the window. No one would notice if I stepped out for a few minutes.


	2. Chapter Two

**My thanks to my _one_ reviewer. ;) Here's the second installment in _Legends to Burn_, hope you enjoy! I wrote all this before _Breaking Dawn_, so that's why there are so many differences between the finished _Twilight _storyline and this. Oh, boo, I forgot the disclaimer. I know our writing styles are similar....but I'm NOT Stephenie Meyer. Review if you want more. I'm not apologizing for the cliffie.**

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The rustle of the leaves in the thicket surrounded me as I entered. It was cooler here, under the trees, where the sun had not touched. I walked deeper, trailing my fingers over everything I passed, touching waxy leaves, dewdrops, rough bark, and feather soft petals.

The gentle moonlight bathed everything it touched under the canopy in silver streaks. It all looked like a fairyland. I breathed in, relishing the damp air in my lungs.

I reached up, shoving hair out of my face. I braced myself, then took off running. I was nowhere near as fast as a werewolf, but I could hold my own against the girls on my high school track team.

I loved to run. It felt so much like flying, and running through the woods offered better views than running on the track. It was more sheltered, allowing me to let myself go. I sprinted around fallen logs, across large stones, and through ferns.

The wind flew past my face, chilling and numbing it. I stopped when I tripped over something I didn't see and fell face first into the wet earth.

I lay on my stomach for several seconds, stunned and trying to catch my breath. Finally, I rolled into a sitting position to see what I'd tripped over.

The light was dim here, so I had to bend close. When I recognized what I was seeing, I pressed both hands to my mouth to muffle my horrified scream.

It was a body.

I backed up until I was leaning against a tree and shut my eyes. Willing it to be gone, I opened them. No go. It was still there.

Now that the initial shock had passed, all I felt was a morbid curiosity. I crept closer, peering at the body. It was a young man, probably no older than me. He looked as if he had just been dropped and left there. I knelt beside him, unexpected tears pooling in my eyes.

I reached out a trembling hand to check his pulse, just to make sure. My fingers met the cold, soft skin in awe. I didn't know a dead person could be so beautiful. I closed his still-open eyes, feeling morose.

But something wasn't right. There was no blood, no obvious wound. Wait, there was something on his neck. I bent closer, touching the spot. I leapt back, fear turning my blood to ice.

I had never seen a vampire bite before, never wanted to. But I was pretty sure that the two puncture wounds on his neck were from a vampire. His blood coated the fingers of my right hand, black in the dusk.

Shaking violently in terror, I turned to run. I hadn't taken two steps before I ran into a broad chest. A scream broke from my trembling lips, only to be muffled by a hot hand.

"Claire! Sh, sh, it's me." He enveloped me in a comforting embrace.

I was blubbering as I told him, "Quil! There's – there's a – a _body_! A body, Quil! It's got two marks on its neck, like something – vampire maybe – bit him!"

His tone was abrupt, and I just knew he was staring at – at _it_. "I know, Claire, I see the mark."

I was still shaking. "H-how did y-you f-f-find me?"

"I followed you." He said shortly.

As sudden as if he'd been in a trance and just now broken it, Quil's demeanor changed. He scooped me up into his arms and turned to run.

"We've got to get you out of here."

I clutched at his shoulder as he rushed through the woods, trees going by in a blur. Quil dropped me on my aunt's front porch, then turned me around.

"Don't look for a sec, okay?" he said, his usual 'I'm about to strip and go wolf' warning.

I shut my eyes, shuddering as the familiar ripping sound reached my ears. A cold nose at my jaw let me know it was safe to turn around. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck.

The scent of his fur was comforting as I clung to him, shaking. "Quil," his name escaped in a whimper from my lips.

A strong hand dropped onto my shoulder; I whirled around, a shriek flying from my mouth. It was stupid, really, because if it had been something that would hurt me, Quil would've reacted. But he didn't – I did.

Sam stood there, mostly bare already, a spare pair of shorts over his shoulder. "Come into the house, Claire."

"But wouldn't I be safer out here? This is where the cavalry is; surely there's no safer place." I was feeling stubborn today.

"You mean in the middle of the action?" Jacob chimed in from behind me. "No way! I am _not_ going to watch Quil kill himself because we were too busy to make sure no one offed you."

A fist gripped my heart. "But I can't just stand back and watch you guys fight a vampire! They're deadly, they have no emotions, and they don't care what they do to people!" I flung my hands out, emphasizing my point. I could feel enraged tears filling my eyes. They were _not_ going to leave me behind, fretting over what might happen.

"You've never seen us all after we've transformed, have you?" Embry asked.

"There's never been any reason to!" But even as these words flew from my lips, I knew it wasn't true. When I was two, there was a family of vampires, the Cullens, who had lived here. They'd preyed on animals instead of humans, so they had been allowed to stay, on the condition that they didn't bite a human. They left fifteen years ago, after a close friend of Jacob's had married one of them with the intention of becoming a vampire. Of course, to do that here would mean the wolves attacked, no matter if it was of her own free will.

It was still a sore spot of Jacob's.

I felt Quil's arms around me; He'd resumed his human form. "Sh, Claire, trust me. We'll be fine. We're stronger than you think, and there are quite a few of us. It'll be boring, that's how easy it'll be. Besides, someone has to care for Emily. She's still weak."

I tripped over the guilt trap he'd set. Quil was right, if all the men left, Sam included, then Emily would be left helpless and distraught. Not a very serene combination.

"Actually, I will be caring for Emily." Sam said.

Quil's arms fell from my waist as he turned to face my uncle. "What? Who will lead the pack?"

"Jacob has finally decided to accept the role he was born into. So, in answer to your question, _he_ will." Sam's answer surprised even me.

"So I can go?"

Before my uncle could answer, Quil did. "No! Absolutely _not_!" He barked out, his rough tone startling me. "Don't get me wrong, Claire," he continued in a much softer voice I'd found he only used with me. "It's not that I don't want you there, it would be too dangerous! I love you too much to watch you get hurt."

"But I wouldn't, Quil, I'd stay out of the way." I was begging, and I knew it. "I can't just wait here!"

"I know you don't like it, Claire," Quil soothed, "But please, for me?" he cupped my face in his hands and stared into my eyes. I felt my pulse race as everything besides us faded away. "Nothing would matter to me anymore if something happened to you."

I nodded, hypnotized by his eyes. He searched my face for another moment before gently pressing his lips to mine. I clutched at him, fear heating the kiss. Quil broke away patiently, then pushed me toward the door.

I looked back over my shoulder at him. He offered an encouraging smile.

"I'll be fine, Claire – just go."

Fighting tears, I shut the door behind me. Rushing to my room, I threw myself on my bed. Overcome with loneliness, I began to cry from anxiety and loss.

The sounds of shifting forms blew in through my window on the breeze. Moonlight struck a mirror on the desk in front of the window, casting a pearly glow on the ceiling. After several moments, the quiet returned.

The house was stifling. Surely Quil hadn't meant for me to lock myself in? Or maybe he had . . . but if the wolves are chasing the vampire, then I should be safe outside. They know where the vamp is.

I slid off my bed and tiptoed quietly to the door. Pressing my ear against it, I could hear my uncle's heavy footsteps leading to his room, then the lock on his door sliding home.

Waiting another few moments to be sure he was safely out of the way, I slipped out of my room. I rushed, barefoot, out the back door, toward the woods. It was eerily quiet. I looked about as I stepped into the trees, shadow clothing me.

I jumped when I heard rustling behind me, and whirled about to see a fox. _Okay, Claire, you're way too jumpy,_ I thought to myself. Yet, stubbornly, maybe foolishly, I kept going deeper into the bracken.

An agonized howl cut short much too quickly sounded from a short distance to right sent a shiver of fear coursing through me. I recognized that yowl – I'd know it out of a hundred others – Quil.

"Quil!" I ran toward the sound, fingers impatiently clawing away branches and thorns that threatened my skin, raking open my palms. A particularly obstinate branch barred my way – I threw my shoulder into it and fell through into a small cleared radius. Moonlight lit the bare ground like a spotlight, confirming my fears.

The most beautiful creature I'd ever seen – such pale, almost luminescent skin, dark and thick hair, and lean muscles on a lithe figure – was crouched over Quil's unmoving form, a feral smile in place. I gasped, and the noise caused him to turn around.

"Who's this?" His voice was satin across my ears, and his topaz gaze bored into my eyes unyieldingly.

Quil groaned, and I watched him struggle to rise. He settled back to the ground with a moan after a moment of effort. My only comfort was that he was still in his wolf morph – else I'd know he was dead.

My frantic gazed flickered back and forth from Quil to the vampire.

His eyes softened. "Scared, sweetheart? No need, I only fight to defend myself. He attacked first." He spread his arms. "I won't hurt you, dear, I swear it." I felt myself relaxing; then his face darkened, reigniting a thrill of fear. "Now, my brother, on the other hand-"

He broke off, looking behind him at another pale figure approaching.

Where the first vampire was beautiful, the second was horrendous. He wasn't ugly, really, just more frightening. His eyes were scarlet instead of the clear topaz of the first; his blond hair was shaggy and unkempt. But worse than all this was the homicidal, crazed looked on his face and in his eyes as he watched me.

"What are you waiting for, Landen? Finish the werewolf; I'll take the girl. She smells so alluring," he snarled, sending me a glance that made me shudder. He advanced slowly, giving me time to notice one more horrible detail.

Blood dripped from his long fingers and was spattered up his arms and across his shirt.

Horror froze me in place. Who had this monstrosity ripped to shreds? How much of my wolf family was dead? Fury rose in me, shaking me. It was idiotic, really; I couldn't fly off the handle and attack this monster – he'd kill me, too.

Landen shook his head. "We've done what we came for, brother. Let's just leave; this girl has done nothing to you."

"Your point? She's human, in the way, and smells of wolf. That's plenty of reason for me," He turned back to face me and put one foot forward, grinning.

"Caleb!" Landen cried out, fury in every decibel. "You touch her, _I_ will personally shred you. Leave her be, now."

The other one, Caleb, bit out a reply so vulgar and violent that I almost choked on my air.

I was startled. The vampire – Landen – was protecting me? I thought vampires only cared about bloodshed.

Realizing the two vamps were absorbed in their dispute about my blood, I turned, and rushed to Quil's side.

"Quil? Quil!" I ran my hands down his furry back. "Wake up, it's me, Claire." I stroked his ears, "Come on, Quil, there's a couple of vampires who want me for dinner!"

He stirred, moaning, then lay still again.

A savage, bloodthirsty howl in my ears caused me to turn. Uncle Sam's familiar russet pelt burst through the trees, followed by Jacob's hulking bulk.

A raw chill rushed through my bones and blood. _Where was Embry?_ My mind began to put two and two together at an alarming rate, leaving me winded; the blood on Caleb, Embry missing – Oh no.

Landen took up a defensive stance, but Caleb dove for me. Cold, iron arms latched around me and a long hand pulled my head back by the hair. I could feel icy breath caressing my neck as Caleb issued his threat:

"Any closer and I'll kill her," his tone taunted, knowing my pack was trapped. They would do nothing to endanger me, and the monster knew it.

The very air around us froze as the wolves held their breath, waiting.


	3. Chapter Three

**Thanks to my reviewers. You made this chapter possible.  
**

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Another roar filled me with relief. _Embry,_ I twisted in Caleb's grip to see the lost wolf leap at my captor.

Teeth coated in liquid ice pierced my neck, just below the ear. I screamed from shock – I couldn't really feel it just yet; it was just numb.

Then I hit the ground; Caleb had been ripped away. I sat up, clutching at the bite on my neck. Blood was seeping between my fingers as I stared at the sight before me. Landen had pulled Caleb off me and was now pinning him to the ground.

My uncle and cousins leaped over Quil and I, surrounding the two vampires.

My neck was beginning to burn; I crawled over to Quil and pressed my face into his pelt. _Why me, why this?_ My muscles were going into spasms in response to the venom racing through my veins. A moan floated past my unfelt lips.

I could feel Quil demorph beneath me and for a moment, I panicked. But I felt him move, reaching for the shorts strapped to his leg. I now had my cheek against the cool dirt, biting my lip in attempt to control the waves of agony that threatened to be voiced.

I felt Quil's arms pick me up, cradling me gently to his chest.

"Claire, oh no, no, not you, please . . ." I could hear him moaning, begging. The world was growing darker, shrouded in my haze of pain.

A screech filled the air, and it took me a moment to realize it was me.

Another sound reached my ears. "No, don't touch me! There will be things she'll need explained once this is over. Let go!" It sounded like Landen.

My fingernails scratched against Quil's chest, leaving bloody furrows. I clenched my jaw shut against another scream.

Quil, frantic, shouted, "Wait just a minute guys! What do we know about being vampires?" His breathing was rapid; he was agitated and trying to hide it. "Like it or not, Claire's going to become one. We need someone from the other side to help."

I was now writhing in Quil's grip, mouth still shut stubbornly, even though whimpers and moans were still escaping. The burning was now all over my body, like my insides were on fire.

A low, harsh groan escaped my throat, and I felt a sob shake Quil's frame. I would be as quiet as I could, so he wouldn't need to cry anymore . . .

I could feel two cold hands touching the place where Caleb had bit me. Another shriek ripped the air. When would this agony end?! All I wanted was to die, to fade to oblivion, but the fire wouldn't let me. Every time I thought I could, the burn intensified.

This continued for what felt like eternity to me. I had no awareness of my surroundings, didn't care where I was or how long it had been. Screaming for me had become impossible long since, but still I shook and bucked against the excruciating pain within me.

And then, finally, mercifully, it began to ease, just in my fingertips. It slowly worked its way up, until my wrists were cool, too. I began to come back to awareness, realizing with awe that I had survived. My toes were cool, as were my arms now. The chill continued to spread, faster now, and I gasped for air as it took my lungs. I felt my heart give one final, hard beat. _Cha-lug. _I opened my eyes, distracted for a few minutes by the dust mites in the deepening shadows of – oh. I was in my room. I sat up, looking around.

The first face I saw was Landen's, which confused me. I had fully expected, without acknowledging the fact, Quil to be here. But he wasn't.

"Hello, Claire. Welcome back to the realm of the undead, dying, and already dead. Ready to take your place in it?" A remorseful smirk in place on his face, Landen leaned forward to prop his forearms on his knees.

I blinked a few times. Everything looked so different, the colors more vibrant, details more pronounced. I noticed a deep stain in the carpet from a two-year old coffee spill. With my old eyes, it had been just a shade different from the carpet's natural color; it was now quite noticeable. I could hear everything, too. Someone in the kitchen washing dishes, overly-rapid werewolf heartbeats, playful growls. Outside, crickets sounded out their nightly chorus, leaves whistled as wind played them, and somewhere far away, a hare died at the jaws of a wolf.

Landen's eyes narrowed, concern radiating from him. I realized I'd been silent for some time. "Please excuse my nonchalance, Claire. How are you feeling?"

I could only think of one word to describe it. "Different," even my voice was changed. It was smoother, like it had been coated in honey.

A pounding on the door sounded too loud. "She awake yet?" I knew that voice, and recognition strummed chords deep within my chest – Quil.

"Just a moment, please, Quil. She's awake, but I want to ensure she's not too confused." Landen's gaze never left me as he spoke.

I had been two heartbeats from shedding the bedclothes and rushing to the door, but this stopped me. "What's to be confused about?" I asked, curious, distracted.

"You know fully what events transpired before your change? Who you are, who your family is," he paused for a moment, as if unsure whether to say the next words, but continued abruptly. "_What_ your family is?"

I sighed, impatient. I wanted – no, _needed_ to see Quil. But the more rational part of my brain threw in: _You'll see him faster if you answer the other vampire's questions. _I realized I was thinking about several things at once – the colors of the final rays of sunlight as they faded from my room, Quil, Landen's question, and the bizarre smell coming from my bed linens.

Landen had to ask the questions again, to snap me out of the dissection of my thoughts I'd fallen into. "Of course I know all that." I fell into my memories again, shying away from the black hole of pain that was the most prominent memory. I thought of large, furry wolf-forms, Quil's kisses, my motorcycle and report cards . . . "I know who I am. Quite well, thank you very much. "_Now_ may I please see Quil?" Oddly, I felt more drawn to him than ever. I just _needed_ to see him, to smell him, to touch him. Knowing he was just beyond my door drove that desire crazy.

Landen nodded. "Come on in Quil." He called out.

The door burst open like someone had set off dynamite. I shot out of bed, and straight to Quil. His arms encircled me like they had merely been waiting for me to come and complete the circle. I stretched up and pressed my lips once, twice, to Quil's mouth before he pulled back.

"I don't have any idea what the guys were talking about. You smell just fine. Like, peppermint ice cubes. Very strong ice cubes." He muttered as he looked me over.

I took in Quil's scent, picking apart the different sources: Pine, decaying leaves, hickory, his deodorant, and a musky, smoky odor that had to be just Quil.

Quil's gasp drew my eyes back to his face. He was staring at mine in something like horror.

"Her eyes?" he asked Landen in a whisper.

I had disregarded Landen the moment Quil stepped in, and now looked at him again. I was confused. "What about my eyes?"

Landen didn't answer either question, but took my shoulders and steered me to my full-length mirror hung on the back of my closet door.

A pale, but strikingly beautiful, wraith-like waif with crimson eyes stared back at me. I felt mild surprise. I vaguely remembered the old legends; my human life was already fading from my memory.

What I couldn't get over was how stunning I'd become. Someone had changed my clothes, to make me more comfortable, I supposed, while I sweated out The Change. So I was now wearing a half-tank and cropped sweatpants. I had the perfect, lusted over by every woman and male on the _planet_ body. My eyes roved over the absolutely flat, ideally sculpted abs, long, lean legs, and subtle curves in all the right spots.

Yet, the main thing I was thinking about (other than my amazement), was the fact that I _never_ would have worn these clothes outside my bedroom. In a house full of men that went around half-dressed the majority of their time, I was teased constantly, mainly by Jacob, over how much skin I _didn't_ show. And here were two men, one a stranger, watching me run around in my skimpiest sleeping outfit. I usually wore them separate, not together, like my top with sleep-_pants_, and my shorts with a long shirt. I felt unclothed.

I turned around. "Out! Both of you, and shame on either one who changed, or let someone else change my clothes!"

Quil smirked, knowing me well, but Landen just looked confused. "I'm sorry?" My beloved boyfriend threw his arm around the vampire's shoulder and steered him out of the room. I could hear him saying "Just let her be, it's a quirk of hers that I'm really glad she kept," as the door shut.

I dug through my drawers frantically, looking for _something_ acceptable to wear. I finally settled on my favorite pair of jeans (and they looked it, holes all over the place) and layered two different colored tanks.

Finished dressing, I opened my door. Quil squeezed himself between me and the doorjamb, Landen zipping in after him at double Quil's speed. Quil shut the door firmly and leaned against it. The old wood let out a squeak of protest, then fell silent.

I raised an eyebrow. Quil looked me over, and then opened his arms. I gratefully fell into them, so glad he still wanted me. Or, for the moment, that he seemed to still want me.

My throat was burning, and for a several seconds, I thought it was due to emotion.

I pulled away from Quil with what I'm sure was a desperate expression. A sad smile pulled at Landen's mouth when I turned to look at him. "You're hungry,"

Quil's heart beat against my fingers, clutched in his warm hand, taunting me. But I could not smell his blood, and I felt no urge to devour him. He still smelled the same to me. I nodded, unable to deny it because I now felt ravenous, and yet disgusted at the creature I'd become. "But I don't want to eat people," I whispered.

"Then allow me to introduce you to my lifestyle; I am a vegetarian."

Landen's statement confused me.

"I eat animals," he clarified.

Quil nodded, "And that's the only reason you were allowed to come here,"

The strange burning ache now descended deep into my chest.

"Come on, Claire. I'll take you hunting and I'll explain everything you'll ever need to know about being a vampire." Landen offered his hand, which I ignored.

I turned to Quil and rose up on my toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. When I pulled back, he was wearing a goofy grin. I laughed; before closing the door, I called over my shoulder to Landen:

"Come on, explain to me what's so fun about being a vampire."

* * *

**Please feed my review bunny!! She's quite hungry. I'm not sure who she'll eat when she's hungry enough . . . she's a vampire review bunny, and currently I look like food. If you don't want her to eat me (so you'll never get the end of the story) review!!**


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